


My head hurts, let's talk

by Crypterion_Moon



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Painkillers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypterion_Moon/pseuds/Crypterion_Moon
Summary: Tim gets the most headaches and pains out of all the batboys, almost as much as Bruce. Jason rarely does. So when one night, they get a migraine together, they spend the rest of it riding through the pain by discussing deep stuff like a couple of dorks doped on weed.





	My head hurts, let's talk

Throbbing in his head and a long night ahead, a long quiet night. What was the point, he really should just go home, get changed, take some painkillers and sleep it off, which probably won’t help which means ‘no bullshit tomorrow at the WE meeting’. Tim almost felt sorry for the employees. Tired and aching, he rubbed at his face and cowl free head. At least that was gone, since it just made it even worse, constricted. The only thing he kept was the domino which he thought was a much better idea. The virtual world is full of great ideas.

He heard footsteps, heavy, equally tired ones.

“Jason.”

“Replacement.”

The man plopped down beside Tim and removed the shiny helmet. His eyes sporting the plastic domino underneath. Jason let out a weary breath.

“Nice outfit, I like what you did to my uniform.”

“Only because I can’t understand how you could function in the original one, the cowl was a total disaster.”

“Hey it worked for me, no my problem if you couldn’t fit nicely into it,” Jason lit a cig and inhaled deeply. Tim shot him a dirty look.

“You know that stuff doesn’t help with stress that much right?”

“Don’t really care.”

Tim huffed and began kneading at his temples, the pain was ringing and somehow it seemed to have migrated to the back of his head as well. He really hated to have to deal with migraines on patrol.

“You got them too?”

“Yeah, recently.” Jason took another drag thoughtfully.

“When did it start?”

“After B died, “Tim swallowed, “And that brat came along, it’s gotten a little better since I moved out but since taking on WE, I think it’s staying for good.”

Jason stayed silent.

“What about you?”

“Dying is a factor, probably,” Tim winced, “But I think mostly having to deal with the fact that I’m saner now and all the things that have changed.”

“Would you want to go back?” Jason let out a choking laugh, the cigarettes are probably to blame but he doesn’t want to give it up.

“Back to being dead or back to being insane?” Jason watches as Tim gives him a hard look, sad eyes, not sympathetic. Why was he mourning him even though they never knew each other.

“To answer your question and mine, sometimes I think it’ll be easier if I was dead or insane, but no, I wouldn’t want to go back, not even before I died.”

“I think it’ll be easier to be dead,” Tim muttered, mostly because of the migraine and in part because of his ongoing grief, that was his life.

“I don’t, think of all the stuff you miss and then you have to play catch-up.“

They sit in silence for a while, Jason slowly finishing his cigarette while Tim was lost in his thoughts again. It kind of hurt to think, so Tim got up and reached into one of his belt pockets.

“Want some?”

“You had painkillers in you utility belt all this time?”

“I wanted to see how long I could torture myself for,” Tim joked, an snarky little grin spreading across his face.

“Damn, replacement, and I thought I was insane,” Jason gratefully took the box.


End file.
